


shot all to hell

by freedomatsea



Series: Hell's Kitchen Universe Pieces [28]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Frank gets shot, absolutely not smutt this time kids i'm sorry, we learn why he hates pizza
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 06:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6646180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freedomatsea/pseuds/freedomatsea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the 'penny for your thoughts' verse. Frank gets shot and Karen thinks she's going to lose him...</p>
            </blockquote>





	shot all to hell

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks, as always, to my dear friend Tricia.

Karen had had a _long_ day at the Bulletin. Ellison had pushed for an article to be ready two days early, which meant Karen had almost considered making a bed in the research room, because she’d been in there until nearly one in the morning.

She was unsurprised to find her apartment empty, save for Mack who was overjoyed to see her. Frank had mentioned something about taking out one of the small Irish factions, maybe the Fitzpatricks or the Fitzroys. She’d been half asleep when he’d informed her last night, what his plans were. She’d come to expect that there would always be someone for him to take out. That was their way of life. With whatever _Fitz_ faction taken out, she’d have something new to write about tomorrow. She was good at spinning it as an inside job, instead of the Punisher back from the dead.

She had just undressed to take a shower when she heard a loud bang at the fire escape. She grabbed her housecoat, twisting the tie around her waist as she moved to the bedroom to grab her .380 out of her underwear drawer. Karen’s heart was pounding her chest. She hadn’t written any articles lately that she could be getting heat for. As far as she knew no one knew that Frank was alive and no one knew he was with her. Except for Matt and things had calmed down with him and Foggy. They’d finally accepted her relationship with Frank.

Fear lanced through her. Fisk was due to get out of jail soon. Was _this_ retribution for Wesley?

Karen held her gun firmly as she moved down the corridor. Mack was calmly standing at the end of the hallway, wagging his tail as he stared in the direction of the fire escape.

 _Frank_.

She came around the corner, her eyes going wide as she saw Frank leaning against the window. She left her gun on the table, moving to open the window for him to climb through.

“Oh my God.” She muttered as she took in the sight of blood covering his hands.

Frank grimaced as he came through the window, clutching at his side. “It ain’t right Karen.” He mumbled, wiping at a drop of blood that ran from the corner of his lips. “ _Shit_.”

“What happened?” Karen questioned, her fingers trembling as she tried to make the bleeding at his side stop. But it wouldn’t and she wasn’t entirely certain how she was supposed to make it stop.

“Got fucking shot.” Frank bit out as she helped him to sit on the sofa. It was going to be covered in blood and she didn’t care. Not if he survived this. “It’s still in me. Both of them are.”

“ _Both_ of them?” Karen felt tears sting her eyes as she looked down at the blood that soaked his shirt. She ripped the shirt (which was already in terrible condition) off of him. “Where’s your fucking vest?”

“Got it off out there.” Frank answered, his voice a little lower than it usually was, like he was too weak to talk with full volume. “Entered from the side.” He groaned when she prodded at the entry wounds.

“This is bad Frank.” Karen wiped her hands off on her housecoat, wadding up his shirt and pressing it against his side. “Jesus Christ.” She was panicking and panicking did no one any good. “I need to call Matt.”

“What the fuck is he going to do?”

“He has a doctor he goes to. I _just_ found out.” Karen grabbed Frank’s hand and urged him to press the shirt against the wounds. “Hold that. I’m going to get her number.” She rushed into the bedroom to grab her phone, dialing up Matt.

“Hello?”

“Matt I need Claire’s number. Now.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I need her number.”

“I’ll send you the contact.” Matt told her, his voice laced with concern. “Is it Frank?”

“Yes.” Karen sighed. “I don’t have time to explain. Thank you.” Karen hung up, waiting anxiously for Matt to forward her Matt’s number. The text came in a few seconds later and she quickly pressed send.

It took three tries to answer.

“This better be an emergency.”

“Hi, Claire. This is Karen. I’m a friend of Matt’s. I need your services. You can’t tell anyone.”

“Is this what I am, then? The vigilante Doctor?” She sighed. “What happened?”

“He’s been shot.”

“Who?”

Karen hesitated. “Frank Castle.”

“ _Shit_. Alright. I can help. Give me the address.”

Karen gave her the information before hanging up. She hoped that this wasn’t a terrible mistake. The thought of more than just Foggy and Matt knowing about Frank was terrifying. The last thing she wanted was for word to get out while he was injured. He couldn’t fight anyone off like this.

She returned to the living room. Mack was sitting up on his hind legs beside Frank, his paws outstretched over Frank’s legs. He kept nudging at his hand, hoping he’d give him attention, but Frank didn’t have enough energy. “You look like shit.” She said, trying to keep the atmosphere calm, even though she was anything but.

Karen knelt beside him, covering his hand with hers to apply pressure. “How do you feel?”

Frank huffed. “Scared shitless.” He turned his head a little to look at him. “Never thought I’d be afraid to die.” He coughed, more blood running from his lips. “Fuck. _Karen_ …”

“You aren’t going to die.” She insisted, lifting her freehand to cup his cheek. “You’re going to be okay. Claire can fix you.”

He smiled wanly, “Yeah. _Yeah_.” He let out a heavy sigh. “Move outta this goddamn city Karen.”

She frowned, shaking her head. “This city is my home.” She squeezed his hand. “I’m only moving if you want to.”

“Hell no.” He grinned at her. “I want you safe.”

“I am safe.” She brushed her knuckles over his cheek. “You’re going to be fine Frank. She’s gonna make you all knew. Stop talking like this.” Karen blinked, trying desperately not to cry. “I love you Frank.”

“I love you too.” Frank started to smile, but pain marred his expression. “Ain’t there some thing about stomach wounds killing fast?”

“ _Frank_.” Karen could barely keep a sob from rising up in her throat then. “You’re going to make it Frank. This isn’t how you die.”

“Yeah.” He nodded weakly, his eyes falling closed. “Just gonna rest my eyes.”

“No you don’t.” Karen pressed a little harder against his injury, which made him jerk awake.

“What the fuck?”

“No. No resting your eyes. Keep talking to me.”

Frank tilted his head to look at her, “It’s too much work.”

“Tough. _Talk_.” Karen hoped Claire got there soon. He really didn’t look good. He seemed a little grey around the edges and his eyes were barely focusing on her. “I don’t even care about what. Make snide remarks about Matt’s blindness. Just talk.”

He chuckled. “Those only work when he’s here to take them. Ain’t no point in making them when Red ain’t here.” Frank grimaced as he shifted a little, trying to find a comfortable position. “I’ve ruined your fucking sofa.”

“It’s fine.” She promised him, soothing him as best she could. “I don’t care. You can ruin every inch of this place. You just have to live to help me clean it up.”

Frank grinned. “That’s m’Karen.”

“Yeah. _Your_ Karen. Your Karen’s gonna be pretty damn pissed if you die on this sofa, so do me a favor and let’s not do that.”

“I wish you’d met my family.” Frank said weakly, shifting again. It was clear he was uncomfortable, but every time he moved he hurt himself more, and she hated seeing him like this. “You and Maria woulda been good friends.”

“Yeah?” Karen smiled, stroking his cheek. “I bet she was sassy like me. It’s the only way to keep men like you in line.”

He nodded. “She was. Real sweet too.” Frank clenched his eyes closed. “I ain’t ready to see her again.”

“ _Shh_.” Karen soothed. “You’re not going anywhere.”

There was a quiet knocking on the front door and Karen reluctantly left his side to answer it. It was Claire, with her medical bag clutched in her hand.

“How bad is it?”

“He’s lost a lot of blood.” Karen said, leading Claire around the sofa to Frank. “It’s two bullets. There’s no exit wound.”

“Jesus Christ.” Claire stared down at him in horror. “He needs a hospital.”

Frank laughed. “I ain’t going back to jail.” He let out a shaky breath. “Hospital means jail.”

Claire shook her head. “Then let’s see what I can do.” She gave Karen a skeptical look, “I need a bowl of warm water and whatever clean white towels you have.”

“Got it.” Karen said, swallowing thickly. She was scared to death that she was going to lose him. The look on Claire’s face said it all. He’d lost a lot of blood and, if she remembered anything from binging crime shows, stomach wounds were _bad_. Those usually required surgery because stomach acid caused infections and death.

She tried to wash the blood off her hands before getting the towels, but it seemed impossible. It was caked under her fingernails and it had stained her pale skin. She couldn’t stop the flashbacks of waking up beside her coworker’s bloody or the crimson circles that formed seven holes across Wesley’s white shirt. She was so sick and tired of blood.

“Here.” Karen whispered as she delivered Claire the towels and warm water. Frank looked like shit. He looked worse every time she looked at him. He was fading. _Fast_. “Frank, come on, talk. This is no time to go quiet on me.”

“He needs to stay still.” Claire warned him, when he tried to move again. “You know, when I went to medical school, no one prepared me for this shit. But the amount of on-the-job training I’ve gotten in removing bullets from shadowy headlines is getting ridiculous.” Her fingers worked nimbly at the entry wound, “What was the range?”

Frank hesitated, his lashes fluttering as he tried to recall. “Fifteen feet. Think it was a .45 Glock.”

Claire shook her head, “.40.” She corrected him as she dropped the bullet onto the coffee table behind her. “You get shot by a cop?”

Frank shook his head. “Fitzroys.”

“How bad is it?” Karen questioned, crossing her arms across her chest. “Is there something I can do?”

“The second bullet,” Claire explained, putting pressure on his lower stomach, which made him howl in pain. “ _Stomach_.”

Karen’s expression fell. “Can you…?”

“Might want to call our mutual friend to put a good word in with the big guy upstairs.” Claire said, her lips drawn into a thin line. “I need an operating room, not a sofa in the low rent district.”

Frank snorted. “Nah, low rent district is her last place. Step up.”

“Yeah, we’re real fancy here.” Karen teased, blinking rapidly to keep tears from falling. “Can I do anything?”

“Unless you’ve got a transfusion machine stored in your bathroom, there’s not much I can ask you to do.” Claire sighed as she reached for alcohol to clean off his stomach before using her scalpel.

Karen gagged and she had to turn away. It was too much. She couldn’t handle the blood. She could barely handle Frank’s sounds of pain. He was trying to keep them quiet and she didn’t know if it was pride or exhaustion or _her_ that was fueling that.

She tried to recreate their morning. What could very well be their _last_ morning. She’d made them omelets and bacon and coffee. She’d been in such a hurry, thanks to Ellison’s new deadline, that she hadn’t really enjoyed the whole thing. She’d rambled on and on about her article and Frank had smiled and nodded, enraptured by her excitement and integrity. Did she kiss him goodbye? She couldn’t even remember.

She wiped at her eyes with the corner of her housecoat, walking back over to the sofa. Frank was swearing up a storm as Claire probed at his gut. His words were slurred and almost unintelligible, until they stopped.

“ _Dammit._ No.” Karen leaned over the back of the sofa, rubbing her hand over his cheek to rouse him back to consciousness. His lashes fluttered, his lips contorting. “You stay with me Frank Castle. You don’t get to go anywhere.”

“Almost got it.” Claire told them.

“ _Karen_.” Frank whispered, trying to keep his eyes open. “I don’t wanna die.”

“You’re not going to.” Karen told him firmly. “I won’t let you.” She leaned over the back of the sofa, reaching for his hand. “You’re stuck with me.”

“Got it.” Claire dropped the bullet on the table. “You’re in luck Frank, it only nicked your stomach. There’s a little bit of leakage, but I should be able to patch it up. I’ll bring you a prescription for antibiotics to treat infection.”

“Thank God.” Karen breathed out, squeezing his hand. “See, I told you, you’re not going to die.”

“He’s not out of the woods yet. You’ve lost a lot of blood Frank. Since we aren’t going to be able to give you a transfusion, I’m going to need to get you some oral iron preparations to stimulate your hemoglobin values. It’s not what you need, but it might be the best we can offer.” Claire dug around in her bag for stitching equipment. “Once I get him stitched up, we’re going to need to get him into the bedroom.”

Karen nodded. “Think you can do that Frank?”

“Yeah. Now that I don’t got two rounds in my gut.” He remarked with faux gusto. “I see why people like me call on you. You’re good.”

“Thanks.” Claire said flatly. “Though I’ve never treated a supposedly dead criminal.”

“First time for everything.” Karen offered with a slight laugh. “You’ve been helping Luke Cage, right?”

“Does everyone know?”

“Matt’s friend Foggy works cases for Jessica Jones and that’s the only way I even know about Luke.” Karen wrung her hands together. “Should I put towels down on the bed? So I can change them if it drains?”

“That’s a good idea.” Claire said with a nod. “Are you able to care for him? He’s not going to be able to do anything for a couple weeks. You don’t want any of this to tear. He hit a pretty good vein. Everything needs to heal.”

“Doc, I got shot in the fucking head and made it. Nothing’s putting me down.” Frank mumbled, watching her work on the stitches. “You got any pain pills?”

“I’ll give you morphine.”

“Isn’t that usually a drip?” Karen questioned.

“They make pills. You’re going to have to monitor how many he takes and make certain he takes the iron. He can handle a high dose of it. You’ll be queasy, but you’ve got to eat with the iron.”

“I’ll make you iron rich food too.” Karen smiled down at him. “I’m willing to do whatever I have to.”

“Call me at the first sign of _anything_. I don’t really know how he’s going to react to this much blood loss.” She gave Karen a wary look that Frank couldn’t see. Karen’s heart ached. He might be patched up, but she could still lose him.

“It barely hurts.” Frank said with a wave of his hand.

“You were just asking for pain pills.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re not making much sense.” Karen teased. “Are you in pain?”

Frank shrugged. “Think this is shock. Everything is warm and numb.”

Claire pressed her palm to his forehead. “It’s the blood loss.”

“Shouldn’t he be cold?” Karen questioned, stepping into the kitchen to get a wet cloth to clean off his lips.

“I’m right here.”

“I know, but I’m asking the nice doctor about how you _should_ be feeling.” She told him gently.

“He probably is cold. If it’s shock, his processing might be off. Do you have blankets?”

“Plenty of them.”

“Good.” Claire said as she bandaged over the stitches. “Unless you call me, I’ll come with the meds in the morning and then come again in a couple days. Keep it clean. If it drains clean with water and alcohol.”

“Time to get up?” Frank questioned, lifting a hand to rub at his face. “Karen, don’t you have an article to write?”

“Yeah, but that’s not really important right now.” Karen told him, moving around the sofa to help Claire get him up. “Maybe I’ll get Matt to babysit you tomorrow.”

Frank gave her a look.

“There’s the man I love.” She teased, which drew an amused expression from Claire. “There’s more than you’ve seen of him in the newspapers and the trial.” She explained, supporting Frank’s weight as they led him into the bedroom.

“I can see.” Claire chuckled. “I’m not judging you. I promise.”

“Can you sit here?” Karen questioned as they helped him onto the edge of the bed.

“Sure.” Frank sighed heavily. “I need that morphine.”

“You’ll get it in the morning.” Claire promised. “I’ll come around seven.”

“Good.”

Karen laid out the towels on the bed, fixing the pillow so it was in the perfect position for him. “He doesn’t wear boxers or anything, but I’ll get his pants off when you’re gone and get a clean pair of pants on him.”

‘TMI.” Claire remarked with a laugh. “I think you’ve got this handled.”

Karen laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t, but I’m good at bullshitting my way through almost anything.”

“Yeah you are.” Frank commented. “Karen Bullshitter Page.”

“I’m dreading how he is on drugs.” Karen smiled a little. “Can we talk outside?”

“Of course.” Claire said with a small nod, letting Karen lead her out of the bedroom. “Are you wanting to know what his chances are?”

“He’s awfully grey.” Karen hugged her arms around herself. “I know transfusions are pretty important in situations like this. Life or death important. Is iron really going to help?”

“I’ve seen it used to help Jehovah’s Witnesses. They refuse transfusions and alternative medicine comes into play. Typically, though, it’s not from getting shot up, but complication in surgery or childbirth.” Claire shook her head. “You know, I can’t say I imagined someone like you with _him_.”

“Surprise.” Karen laughed a little. “It’s complicated, but good. Except when _this_ is what I’m dealing with. I don’t even know how to deal with that sofa now.” She stared at the blood soaked piece of furniture. “Is it fifty-fifty odds?”

“I’d say somewhere around there. He seems pretty hardy, maybe he’ll bounce back. We need to get him on the antibiotics tomorrow too. Just to stave off any potential infections.”

“Thank you for coming out tonight. You have no idea how much it means to me.” Karen smiled warmly. “I just need this to be kept a secret. I can’t lose him.”

Claire nodded. “Your secret is safe with me. I’m good at keeping this sort of stuff quiet. Just don’t get me involved in the gunfire.”

“I try to avoid that myself.” Karen pushed her hair behind her ears. “It’s not an easy life. I understand why you and Matt broke up.”

“I understand why you and Matt broke up too.” Claire countered with a chuckle. “But I don’t get this either. To each her own. You clearly care for each other.”

Karen’s shoulders sagged. “I swear I’m not crazy.”

“Who isn’t in this circle?”

“Fair point.”

“You should get some rest. You have a long journey ahead of you.” Claire told her, lingering by the front door. “You should actually ask Matt to stay over, he’s got some experience with nasty injuries and you probably can’t afford to lose your job.”

“Ellison would kill me.” Karen rubbed at her face. “You’re sure he’ll make it through the night?”

“He should be fine. Give him Tylenol until I bring the good stuff.” She opened the door for herself. “Keep an eye on his temperature throughout the night and adjust the blankets as needed.”

“Thank you. Again, I can’t express it enough.” Karen sighed. “I thought I was gonna lose him.”

“Not yet. But it comes with the job.”

“I know.” Karen frowned. “Get some rest yourself.”

“Bye Karen.”

***

“He’s insistent on having a beer. I told him it’s not a good idea with the morphine.” Matt said as soon as Karen walked through the door. “He’s all yours.”

“Are you weening him off the morphine?” Karen questioned, hanging her purse up and stepping further into her apartment. “Two doses instead of four?”

“He’s only had one so far today,” Matt explained, raking his fingers through his hair. “Unfortunately, less morphine means he’s awake more and I get to be on the receiving end of his signature belittling.”

Karen laughed, covering her mouth. “Then I guess he’s starting to feel better.” She grabbed herself an iced tea out of the fridge. “How’s his coloring?”

“A little pinker. I think he ran a fever earlier, but it seemed to dissipate.” Matt explained, leaning against the counter. “His heart rate is good. A little weak, but stronger than it’s been yet. He’s getting better.”

“Good. It’s been hard to get anything done, I keep worrying about him.”

“You know he’ll just go right back out there.”

“I know.” Karen shrugged. “I’m not taking this away from him. It has to be his choice.”

“You play with guns, you’re going to get shot.”

“Trust me, I know.” Karen rubbed at her eyes, “That’s who he is.”

Matt sighed heavily. “I just worry about you. I don’t want you to be a causality of this.”

“The only way I’ll be a causality is if Fisk sends his goons after me when he gets out.” Karen chewed on her bottom lip.

“I don’t see why you’d be a target. His target is going to be Foggy and me. You shouldn’t be involved in his vendetta.”

“Right.” He didn’t know about Wesley and he wasn’t going to find out. “Frank might be able to help with Fisk. He’s been behind the bars with him. He’ll know what sort of contacts we’re dealing with.” She took a sip of her tea. “How was he, aside from feverish?”

“He talks in his sleep.” Matt laughed, “He mentioned you quite a bit. Mostly he came up with wretched blind man jokes.” He shook his head. “So, I’d say he’s feeling better.”

Karen laughed, “Well, I’m glad to hear it. I won’t need you tomorrow, I took off.”

“Good. He needs time to get new material.” Matt said as he moved towards the door. “Do you need anything before I go?”

Karen shook her head. “I think we’re good. Thank you for doing this for me.”

He shrugged. “I’m always willing to help _you_.” Matt smiled warmly at her, “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be around.”

“Have a good evening Matt.” Karen told him, shutting the door behind him. She headed back into the kitchen to feed Mack, before venturing into the bedroom.

“You’re home.” Frank grinned brightly at her. “I missed you.”

“Yeah?” Karen moved to lay out on the bed beside him. “I missed you too. It’s hard to think about work when you’re here in pain. How are you feeling?”

“Better now that he’s gone.” Frank chuckled painfully. “I don’t think he likes my jokes.”

Karen scrunched up her nose. “Your jokes get worse when you’re on morphine.” She teased. “How do you _really_ feel? We both know that Matt’s presence wasn’t effecting pain.”

Frank shrugged, “I dunno. Everything’s feeling good when I’m on the morphine. When I’m not it hurts like a sonofa.”

Karen frowned. “Claire suggested we start weening you off the morphine.” She shifted a little closer to him, resting her hand on his chest. “We’ll have to play it by ear.” She sighed, “You’re doing a lot better than I thought you’d be doing at this point.”

“Yeah, they can’t keep me down.” Frank remarked with a strained chuckle. He fell quiet for a few minutes and Karen didn’t interrupt the silence, his lips kept forming almost words, like he was trying to find the right thing to say. “Did you think I was crazy?”

“ _What_?”

“During the trial,” Frank rubbed his hands over his face. “Did you think I was crazy?”

“No. I helped you.” Karen retorted incredulously. “I didn’t think you were crazy. If you’re crazy, I’m crazy.”

“Didn’t you get that shrink to take the stand and say I’m crazy?” Frank turned his head to look at her, his eyes half slanted. “Not crazy, right? Just damaged? My heads all fucked up because of _trauma_.”

“It was an attempt to get your sentence decreased. To keep you out of general population.” Karen frowned, “Why bring this up now?”

“He’s _normal_. Aside from the whole devil bit. But he ain’t known for that.” Frank’s brows knit together. “He could give you a life.”

Karen pinched the bridge of her nose, rolling onto her back beside him. “I don’t _want_ to be with Matt, Frank. That ship sailed a long time ago. He’s just a friend now. Trust is important to me and he… he destroyed that trust and it’ll never be back where it needs to be.” She couldn’t believe Frank was worrying about this. The man had been shot, he’d nearly died, and he was worried about her having a normal life.

Which made sense. This wasn’t exactly _normal_ – they weren’t _normal_. But that was okay by her. In fact, she embraced that.

“You deserve better than _this_.” He shook his head. “You deserve better than me coming home shot full of lead.”

“Yeah, well. Matt’s not exactly an option then either because he’s always getting his ass handed to him.” Karen bit out. “I’m perfectly capable of deciding that I want _you_ Frank.”

“I can’t fucking stop Karen. Whatever switch that flipped in my head… That thing that makes me damaged.” Frank huffed, “You’ve got a whole future ahead of you.”

“A whole future _I_ get to decide on. You can’t get me to stay away from you now. Mack likes me too much.” She remarked, trying to lighten the situation. “But no more morphine for you. You’re going to go back on Tylenol.”

“But the morphine cuts the pain.”

“It also makes you mopey.” She lifted her hand to cup his cheek, brushing her thumb over the rise of his cheekbone. “We’ve been through all this a dozen times over. I’m here for good. For better or worse.”

Frank’s eyes opened a little wider at that. “For better or worse, huh? You ain’t bound to me by vows ma’am, you ain’t gotta do that.”

Karen shrugged. “I take this relationship seriously. I’m not going anywhere.” She pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “Are you hungry?”

“Nah.” Frank reached for her hand, squeezing it tightly. “I ate a protein bar earlier.” He made a face. “I thought the doctor lady said the stomach pain would stop after a week or two.”

“She never said that. But if it’s _really_ bad, I’m supposed to call her.” Karen’s brows knit together. “How bad does it hurt?”

“Just when it’s digesting stuff.” Frank shook his head. “It’s fine. The morphine helps.”

“You’re not going to have the morphine forever.” Karen reminded him. “It’s probably just discomfort. I mean you _did_ get shot.” She rolled onto her side, curling herself against him. “Want me to get my laptop so we can watch Netflix?”

“Sounds good.” Frank said, stifling a yawn. “Didn’t realize how fucking exhausted I am.”

Karen laughed softly, leaning over to kiss him again before she left the bed to get her laptop. When she returned Frank was already asleep. He looked so peaceful when he slept, free from worry for a few hours. She left her laptop on the nightstand and curled up against him.

***

Frank was miserable when she weened him off of the morphine. He didn’t say anything, but she could tell. His face was marred with discomfort every time he shifted in the bed. He wasn’t sleeping as well as he had been the week prior. And he was insufferably grumpy about _everything_.

He refused to let Matt babysit him, which wasn’t surprising because Karen was certain that the only way she’d managed to get him to agree to that one was because of the morphine’s effect. Despite his pain, he wasn’t as sullen, and he hadn’t even mentioned thinking she could do better than him. She had had that conversation with him a half-dozen times since his injury. She knew it was something he was worried about, even if he didn’t mention it. The morphine didn’t make him suddenly worry about irrelevant things, it had made him more forthcoming about his worries.

“I know you hate pizza, but I’m craving it.” Karen told him, sitting crosslegged on the bed. He was watching _Must Love Dogs_ , while she was working on editing a rather lengthy article Ellison had assigned her. The elusive Hand was starting to gain more attention, especially with more children going missing (to become zombie killer children, presumably). Mack was stretched out across the foot of the bed with his head resting on Frank’s legs.

“Pizza Hut does wings, right? I’ll do wings.”

“Yeah they do.” Karen laughed, tucking her hair behind her ears. “I won’t try to poison you with _pizza_.”

“The stuff tastes like shit.”

“You like everything on a pizza. You’ve eaten two pepperoni sandwiches this week. You love tomato sauce. Just stick it on crust and you act like you’re going to die.” Karen rolled her eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I just don’t like the taste.”

“Is this like the beer thing?” She questioned, tucking her pen behind her ear. “Are you afraid pizza will be terrible and ruin the memories of it?”

Frank frowned. “Something like that.”

Karen leaned against her elbow, watching him as he watched the movie. “Alright, so it’s _something_ like that, but not that.” She rubbed her fingers over her lips. “Is it something to do with Lisa and Frank Jr.?”

He pressed the pause button and sat the laptop down on the nightstand. “It wasn’t anything to do with Lisa or Frank Jr.” He sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. “My first date with Maria was to a pizza place.”

“ _Oh_. Oh my god.” Karen covered her face. “I’ve been so inconsiderate teasing you about the pizza.” She groaned, “I’ll get Thai. They do delivery.”

“Get your pizza Karen.”

“I don’t want to cause you to relive painful memories.”

Frank grimaced as he sat up, pressing his hand against his bandage, “Come here.” He gestured for her. “It ain’t painful. It was just something I lost interest in after I woke up. I tried it, but it tasted like sawdust. Maybe it is too painful.” He sighed, curling his arm around her as she settled in beside him. “Bet some shrink would say my mind made it taste like shit to keep me from hurting any more. You should ask the doctor lady.”

Karen tilted her head to look at him better. “I’m not asking Claire about whether or not she thinks your aversion to pizza is a construct of your mind.” She pressed her lips into a thin line. “You and I both know that’s what it is.”

“Yeah.” Frank muttered, “It ain’t like the beer or milkshakes or… _this_.”

“I’m not going to make you eat pizza. I’m not here to be compared to Maria or replace her.”

“I don’t compare you to her –”

“I know.” Karen brushed her fingers over his lips. “I know you don’t. But the comment still stands.”

Frank kissed her fingertips. “The only thing similar is that you’re both blonde and neither one of you put up with my shit.” He chuckled, his lips drawn into a sad sort of smile. “You deal with more of my shit than anyone did before this.”

“I’m a very patient woman.” Karen grinned brightly. “Possibly a crazy woman too, but that’s probably why we work out so well.”

“Oh, no doubt.” Frank kissed her temple. “So, what’s your latest article on?”

“The Hand.” Karen’s brows knit together. “There’s been more children abducted and turned into murderous zombie hybrids.” She rubbed her hand over her face. “I keep hitting brick walls with the article, though. I’m waiting for Matt to get back to me about some of my information. I’m also waiting to hear from a potential source. But they might not give anything up, if they’re even legit.”

Frank stiffened. “Karen. You can’t go meeting sources on your own.”

“Don’t worry, I’m _very_ safe. Claire got Luke Cage to help me when I met with my last source.” Karen told him, brushing her fingers over his forehead to soothe the worry lines away. “He’s pretty unbreakable and really good at being a body guard.”

Frank’s jaw clenched tightly. “Why didn’t you tell me before today?”

“Because when it was happening you were high on morphine and muttering something about flying pigs and a talking airplane.” She gave him a look. “I didn’t think it was a good time for a serious conversation. And,” She covered his hand at his bandage. “You’re really hurt Frank. I didn’t want you thinking you could go skulk around out there like _this_. You have a long recovery ahead of you.”

“I’m fine.” Frank insisted, brushing her hand away from his bandage as he made a move to get up. His fists were clenched into tight balls as he moved to sit on the side of the bed. Mack jumped off the bed and stood at his feet, trying to keep him from standing up. “I’ve got it.”

Karen grimaced as Frank tried to stand, but the pain of his muscles and organs pulling against the strain of their mending flesh was too much for him. He collapsed back, swatting away the tears that rolled down his cheeks in response to the pain. “Fuck. We sure she did this shit right?”

“It’s called healing.” Karen shook her head. “Let me help.” She moved off the bed to help him get his legs back on the bed with minimal pain. His face was covered in a light sheen of sweat, his eyes strained as they looked up at her.

“I’m fucking useless like this.”

“You’re not fucking useless, Frank. You need time to _heal_. I know it’s a foreign concept to you, but it’s true. I’ve seen the sorry excuses of mending you’ve done to your body in the past. There are scars that look _really_ gnarly because you hastily stitched them up with _fishing line_ , probably, and never even cleaned it up.”

“Order your pizza, I wanna watch my movie.” Frank said, waving a dismissive hand at the conversation she was trying to start.

“No you don’t! You’re going to listen to me.” Karen grabbed at his hands to keep them right there. “I’m terrified that you’re going to get a wild hair up your ass and leave – _like this_. Do you realize that if you fuck up your stomach you could _die_? That’s why you’re on crazy powerful antibiotics. It was leaking into your blood for long enough that Claire was concerned that you wouldn’t make it. That shit – _literally_ – could kill you! It poisons your blood and then you die. I have a feeling it’s a really fucking awful death too. A lot of pain. Which you’re in already. Every time you complain about it hurting, I’m petrified that you’re going to fall asleep and not wake up. Or worse, that you’ll let the night reclaim you for the punching bag you insist on being.” She pushed herself off the bed, crossing her arms across her chest as she paced. “I’ve tried to be a good nurse with wonderful bedside manners, but you’ve been a _terrible_ patient some days.”

Frank narrowed his eyes as he glared at her. “Then why don’t you call your buddy Brett and say you found Frank Castle?”

Karen huffed. “For fuck’s sake. Are you even listening to me?”

“Loud and clear.” Frank looked away. “Order your pizza Karen.”

“ _No_. I’ll order it when I want to and not a second beforehand.” Karen bit out. “I don’t think you understand that this is _killing_ me. I hate that you’re in pain, but I kinda love that you can’t go out there and get yourself nearly killed again. But I know you’re miserable. I know you’ve got police radio streams you listen to when you think I think you’re watching some dumb t.v. show.”

Frank met her gaze hesitantly. “I can’t stop Karen. I can’t stop until every last shitbag is dead.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes clinched closed. “It ain’t fair of me to spoil you with those domestic moments with me, when that ain’t me anymore.”

“I know you’ve just been going through the motions with a lot of that.” Karen admitted, shaking her head. “I mean it when I say I don’t want _normal_. I really like this chaotic life we have. But I like it most when you can’t die.” She laughed, incredulously. “God, I sound like a really shitty girlfriend.”

“No you don’t.” He sighed. “I think I said it to Red, but it should be said to you too. I think I’m fucked in the head. I can’t shut it off. I’ve tried. You’re right, I’m fucking miserable. Laid up in bed, completely useless. There are people out there that need someone like me putting down scum.”

“There’s someone right here who just needs you.” Karen turned away from him, “I’m going to order my pizza.” She started for the bedroom door, but she stopped, turning back to meet his gaze. “For the record, this isn’t me telling you to _stop_. It’s me telling you to be more careful. I thought I was going to lose you. I wake up and watch you breathing just to make sure you’re _alive_.” She wiped at her eyes. “I need you to not die.”

Frank sat up a little straighter. “It’s hard to die when I’ve got you keeping me alive.” He said quietly, hanging his head. “I’m itching to get back out there Karen.”

Karen chewed on her bottom lip. “I know you are. Give it a couple more weeks then you’ll be free to do it again.”

“I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “You don’t have to be.” Karen told him honestly, smiling sadly. “It’s who you are.”

“Do you still want me?”

“Of course I do,” Karen managed to smile brightly at him. “I love you Frank, regardless of whether you’re here or out there.”

“Good.” Frank, rolled onto his side, patting the bed for Mack to come up to the middle of the bed. “Go order your pizza.”

“Do you still want wings?”

“I’ll have a slice of a supreme.”

Karen blinked in surprise. “ _Frank_ …”

“I’m gonna try a slice.” Frank muttered, rubbing at his face. “Get wings too.”

Karen smiled. “Will do.”

***

Frank _tried_ the pizza. His nose scrunched up with the first couple of bites, but he finished the entire slice and half of a second. “You got the wings too, right?”

“Are you still hungry?” Karen laughed, wiping at her lips as she chewed down a bite of pizza.

“ _Starving_.” Frank remarked, taking a sip of water from his bottle. “I didn’t realize how much that morphine knocked my appetite.”

“The antibiotics probably had something to do with it too.” Karen said, leaning over the side of the bed to grab the box of wings. “They’re still warm.”

“Thanks.” He took the box from her, grabbing one of the wings and tearing off some meat to feed to Mack.

“I thought you said that spoiled him?”

“He deserves to be spoiled, he hasn’t left my side.” Frank retorted, staring on a wing for himself. “He even loyally sat beside me as I watched Arrow.”

“Why would you subject yourself to that sort of torment?” Karen laughed brightly, licking her fingers off. “You know, Foggy once said I reminded him of Felicity.”

“Well, we’re both agreed that Foggy’s an idiot.” Frank rolled his eyes. “You’ve got a backbone, unlike Felicity.”

“How far into it are you?”

Frank scratched at his cheek with a nervous chuckle. “Third.”

“Oh my God.” Karen laughed, wading up her napkin and chucking it at him. “I can’t believe I’m in a relationship with you.”

He shot her an offended look. “Yeah well, I’m just watching it because there’s nothing else to watch.”

Karen snatched up the napkin she’d thrown at him and threw it at him again. “You could watch educational programming. Or House of Cards. Or literally _any_ other show!”

Frank gave a hearty laugh at that. “Maybe you oughta just stay home and monitor what I watch.” He grabbed the napkin and threw it back at her. “Then you can’t harass me for my guilty pleasures.”

Karen rolled her eyes. “I wish I could stay at home and just watch Netflix with you all the time.” She sighed, flopping onto the bed beside him. “But alas, one of us has to make money.”

“There’s a perfectly good shack out there that could be all ours.” Frank reminded her, curling his arm around her shoulders. “I’d even let you get us an air mattress.”

“How thoughtful of you,” She scrunched up her nose. “But we are _not_ moving to that shack.” Karen shuddered dramatically. “ _So_ , how was the pizza?”

“ _Eh_. Still tasted a bit like sawdust, but it’s getting better.” Frank shrugged, running his fingers over her shoulder. “I don’t wanna fight with you Karne.”

Karen tilted her head and smiled a little at him. “I know. I don’t want to fight either. And it wasn’t _really_ fighting. I just needed to get that off my chest.” She sighed, rubbing her hand over his chest. “I hate seeing you like this.”

Frank nodded. “I’ll ease back when I’m better.”

“What?”

“I won’t go back full force.” Frank promised. “Yeah, I won’t. I don’t wanna hurt you Karen. _This_ hurts you.” He gestured to his bandage. “I ain’t in the business of getting shot all to hell again.”

Karen cupped his cheeks and kissed him. She felt like an idiot with the tears streaming down her cheeks. “I love you.”

“You better.” Frank chuckled, brushing her tears. “I’m doing this for you.”

 


End file.
